


Slime.

by CoralFlowerBad (CoralFlower)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, Smut, slime tail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 12:32:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7439497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoralFlower/pseuds/CoralFlowerBad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You sidle up next to him and nudge him with your elbow, and he flinches five feet into the air. Your eyebrows shoot up. He gently floats back down, dropping himself haphazardly to languish across your shoulders-- but somehow more carefully than he's done in the past. His tail always feels strange, gives you goosebumps when it touches you.<br/>"What's up?" He shrugs, draped out sideways and halfway upside down.<br/>"Nothin'." You push his glasses up on his nose because they were slipping down, then just take them off his face completely (you notice the lenses are dirty) to clean them on your shirt. He grumbles, but you know he likes it when you do this kind of thing for him. You wouldn't put it past him, actually, to leave his glasses dirty on purpose, just to have a reason to grumble at you for something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slime.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SybLaTortue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SybLaTortue/gifts).
  * Inspired by [[not specifically titled]](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/212527) by SybLaTortue. 



He's been fidgeting. You've already asked him how things are; you know he feels unimportant, like he doesn't matter enough anymore for you to need him. You vaguely wonder if his tail ever gets crap stuck in it, like dropping that fart-slime you used to mess with as a wriggler onto a carpet.

You sidle up next to him and nudge him with your elbow, and he flinches five feet into the air. Your eyebrows shoot up. He gently floats back down, dropping himself haphazardly to languish across your shoulders-- but somehow more carefully than he's done in the past. His tail always feels strange, gives you goosebumps when it touches you.  
"What's up?" He shrugs, draped out sideways and halfway upside down.  
"Nothin'." You push his glasses up on his nose because they were slipping down, then just take them off his face completely (you notice the lenses are dirty) to clean them on your shirt. He grumbles, but you know he likes it when you do this kind of thing for him. You wouldn't put it past him, actually, to leave his glasses dirty on purpose, just to have a reason to grumble at you for something.

"Are you alright?" His halfway fins twitch, and he squints at you as you wipe off the second lens.  
"Wwhy?" You shrug, and then shiver, because it shifts him in a way that drags the cool, wet slime of his tail across the back of your neck. He groans and climbs back up on you like the world's clingiest feather boa, except made of slime and a few randomly assorted bony joints.  
"You seem, ah... fidgety, is all." He swallows, and then shrugs, visibly uncomfortable with the topic, and his fin-ear-things flap again when you put his glasses back on his face.

You realise you put his glasses on kinda weird, and move to fix it, but he shifts away and does so himself, almost like he's trying to avoid any sort of errant touches. But that doesn't make sense: he likes affection; at least, he likes affection that's warned of and not completely out of the blue. He likes the chance to say no, is what you think it is, but it's hard to tell, because he never actually does say no.

You find your head tilting just the slightest bit to the side, and you notice a glow concentrating sort of in his cheeks. He's blushing, you realise, with a sudden flash of intuition. It's almost pretty.  
"Are you sure you're alright?"

He shrugs again, very deliberately this time, and you realise, in another lightbulb-popping-up-over-your-head-like moment, what the problem is.

New anatomy means figuring out masturbation all over again. He's horny.  
"...Oh." He swallows again, audibly this time, and his tail twitches, you think involuntarily. "Well..." You hesitate. You have to choose your words carefully here, so you don't end up giving him the wrong idea, one that'll just hurt him later.

"If you wanted, I could... try to help some."

He makes this tiny little flabbergasted noise in his throat, and his fin-things flare out to stick out from the sides of his head.

"I'm serious. Not for a red quad, but just." You pause, trying to find the right words, and he cuts you off.  
"To try an' help." You nod, and after a few moments, he nods too, just slower.

"Okay. Great. So where in the entirety of this assgrubbing world do you wanna do this?" That trips him up, and he looks concerned for a moment. 

"We could just go to my block on the meteor. Or if you'd rather, there's a literal assload of abandoned rooftops, just in case you happen to be a shout-it-from-the-rooftops sort of person." You wiggle your eyebrows, feeling like a huge tool, but it works to lighten the mood, because he elbows you, chuckles exasperatedly, and, wrapping his tail around you like a rock-scaling harness, rises up into the air.

You almost flip out, but the slime of his tail is worryingly soft, and you decide it'd be more prudent to just stay still.  
"I dunno KK, there'th not much point shoutin' from any rooftopth," he says 'roof' likes it rhymes with 'woof,' "wwithout any people around two hear you doin' it." You raise an eyebrow, and he gigglesnorts at you. "I'm jutht kiddin', god, Kar."  
"Okay, har har har, I'm about to have a goddamn nervous breakdown because I'm probably gonna fucking go through your tail and splat on the ground or something, so you need to land, like, right the fuck now." Something you said makes him shudder and suddenly start acting serious again, but you have no idea what it was.

He lands the two of you on one of those abandoned rooftops you mentioned a couple seconds ago, and then unwraps his tail. You don't see any gunk from your sweatpants in his slime, so you guess that answers your earlier rambling question for you.

He's looking almost choked, like the anticipation is going to kill him in just a tiny fraction of the time he's probably already been waiting. 

You take pity on him, and gently grasp the collar of his t-shirt to pull him towards you. He just sort of floats. There's a long moment where your faces are inches from one another's, and you can taste him, electric and salty (in both sense of the word), on your breath.

Then you put a hand on his neck and carefully guide him in.

When your lips meet, it doesn't do a lot for you. You can detach from it, make sure you aren't being too sloppy about it, catalogue which things made him sigh or squeak or chirp, to do them again.

He's very easy right now, that's one thing you know. He'd probably let you...

You pull back, and he chases you at first, only dissuaded by your thumb tapping against his chin.  
"Open your mouth." He opens it, and you can't help grinning just a little bit at the way his breath moves between his lips.

You trace across his lower lip with your thumb, watching the way his ear-whatevers twitch, and then reach in and pin his tongue down. He goes almost limp in the air, is what it looks like, just floating without any focus on looking normal. He swallows, and makes a small, plaintive sound. His tail wraps around your leg. You roll your eyes, and take your fingers out of his mouth.  
"Get down, chest to the ground unless you know for a fact it's more sensitive than your back. And take your shirt off." That was just a fancy way of saying 'I'm finger-fucking you from behind at some point today.' He does what you tell him, unwrapping his tail from around your leg.

You kneel down next to him, reaching out to trace a finger down his spine. The way he reacts, moaning aloud and lifting his ass to get his back arched, almost makes your bulge unsheathe completely.  
"Wow," you can't help but whisper, and he sighs in response, ass still almost in your face, looking strangely shiny and wet. You reach for it, touching it with both hands at once, and his sobs are gorgeous, he's so adorably desperate. You squeeze, but softly, afraid of what'll happen if you dig your fingers actually into it, and his breath hitches.

You let go of him for a moment to pull your shirt off too, and then lean in close to his tail, letting him rub it all over your chest and sort of wrapping your arms around it where you can. The noises he's making are incredible, so much so that you almost want to be with him this way all the time, except you know he needs the help that a moirail can give him, and it would be selfish to refuse him that to get your rocks off.

The tip of his tail brushes over your lips, and you let it in to play with your tongue. he makes a noise like you've punched him in the throat, and you pull your lips over your teeth because you aren't sure how much damage this tail can take.

It fills your whole mouth and still wants more, but there's tears pricking at the corners of your eyes just from this little bit, so when it thrusts forward with a partiularly desperate buck of his hips, you dig in your fingers reflexively, right below where his hip would be if he had legs. He twitches, spasms running through him from it, and clings to your wrist when you try to pull your fingers out in horror.  
"No! D-Don't thtop. Not noww."

You furrow your brow, and wiggle your fingers a little bit, reveling in the stricken moans this drags out of his chest, loving what you can do to him. This is great, your bulge is very interested and totally wants in on this.

One problem: you can't get your hand free long enough to get your pants off.  
"C'mon, asshole, I have to get my fucking pants off if it's gonna get any better." He makes a tiny reluctant sound and lets go of your wrist.  
"Thank you."

It takes you maybe fifteen seconds to strip the rest of the way naked. In that time, he's whined several assorted variations of your name about six different times. 

When you get back to him, you stroke your fingers across the surface of his slime for a moment before letting your bulge trail softly, gently over the boundary line between his tail and his torso. He sobs, quietly, and it sounds like your name, your entire name. This time when you penetrate him you go slowly, carefully slipping into him like the sigh that leaves his lips as his slime pulses around your bulge and makes you moan back.

You rub at the base of his torso, dragging your fingers across the rough meld where his flesh gives way to the slime, and he just literally stops breathing, everything in him held still to take advantage of this moment. You freeze too, and he bucks his hips at you, frustrated. You twitch your fingers against his flesh, and he moans, deep in his throat, continuing to buck back towards you.

It only takes another second, one well-timed lash of your bulge, to send him over the edge; you know it's the edge because everything pulses around you, and then keeps pulsing wildly for some moments before winding down. You're left open-mouthed, still not quite satisfied, and then he's telling you to keep going anyway.

The sounds you tear from him after that are frankly exquisite, like you have him tied down and won't stop shocking him and he can't quite decide if he loves it or hates it, and you take a certain smug pleasure in staining the slime of his tail with your candy red, like maybe he'll believe you care if he has to carry physical evidence of it around literally inside of him. You wonder if the colour will ever come out.


End file.
